on.
“Don’t do that,” Ire snaps. “Don’t shut down and shut me out like you did before. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I didn’t shut you out,” I snarl, but the smirk that tilts one side of Ire’s plush lips tells me I just played right into his hands.
“There you are,” he coos, like I’m some child so easily rewarded by just his bright gaze and pleased expression.
I roll my eyes and try to pull my face from his hold. He not only doesn’t let me go, but steps into me even more, and as much as I hate to admit it, his presence affects me. It’s like he’s one of those weighted blankets that Serenity Peaks uses to help calm a resident who’s having a fit. Something about being all cocooned helps the brain relax.
“I had to tell my Matron, Sable. They need to know what they’re up against,” he defends, but I don’t want to hear it. I’m more mad at myself for saying anything to him in the first place than I am at him for being a mama’s boy. “I didn’t know your Sire wasn’t in on what you and your sisters are,” he adds, but his words are like kindling to my anger.
“Of course you didn’t,” I snap. “How could you? We don’t actually know each other at all. We’ve been thrown into a mess of a situation, one you thought was a game up until fifteen minutes ago,” I point out, seeing the opening and going right for the sucker punch with no apologies.
Ire’s eyes grow stormy. “This isn’t exactly easy for me either, Snarls. I’ve grown up my whole life knowing that I’d eventually get beaconed, but I didn’t know it would go down like this. I wasn’t ready for you to smash into my life the way you did.”
“Well, I’m sorry my getting kidnapped and tortured cramped your style, Ire.”
The tic in his jaw pulses. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Do I? I don’t know anything about you other than you showed up in my head one day and declared me unworthy,” I bark, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
“Fine, what do you want to know?” he asks me casually, taking his hands from my face before crossing his arms over his wide chest as though he’s ready and waiting for a battle.
His capitulation catches me off guard as does the longing that flashes through me when he pulls his hands away from me. I have the sudden urge to chase after my hormones with a spray bottle in hand so I can spritz them when they get out of hand and tell them to behave.
I take him in warily, but judging by his expression, he’s completely serious. What do I want to know about him?
Toreon speculated about who Ire was when we were in our cages, and that was my biggest question before, but now I know he’s definitely an Abdicated and that he’s the son of Wrath. Questions like how old are you or what’s your favorite color seem stupid in light of what’s going on, and I’m drawing a blank.
My eyes trace his face, landing on the metal ring he has hugging his septum. I’ve never pierced anything. I don’t even have my ears done, and I wonder why he chose the middle of his nose aside from the fact that it makes him look tougher and even more appealing in an if you stand too close, you’ll get burned kind of way.
“Does that have any other significance other than you wanting to look tough?” I ask, pointing to the ring placed between his two nostrils.
Ire’s eyes widen in surprise and he brings a hand up to touch the piercing. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that to be the first question out of my mouth.
He looks at me carefully before dropping his hand. “I have a lot of piercings for a lot of reasons,” he tells me as though it’s not a big deal, but that just stokes my curiosity even more.
“Oh, yeah? Tell me,” I say, honestly curious.
“Well, my nose I got when I became an adult. A sort of rite of passage for being the progeny,” he tells me.
My hand immediately comes up to my own nose. “Oh, crap, I’m not going to have to do that, am I?” I ask, unsure if this is a thing that all progenies do.
He chuckles, stunning me into silence when he smiles because hello, gorgeous.
“No. It’s a Wrath progeny thing,”